Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“Don’t you have to resolve your personal situation first?”

“What personal situation? Nothing is wrong with my lifestyle. Even if I’m not bound by marriage, I still have a number of responsibilities. Look at Pil-sun’s father. When a person marries, whoever he is, he expects his family to make sacrifices and ends up becoming useless himself.”

“You may think so now, but that’s not necessarily the case when you think in terms of a lifetime. What are you going to do with Pil-sun?”

“Now I get it.” Byeong-hwa snorted. “I’ll take care of Pil-sun’s material needs until she marries. Her parents are the ones who have to deal with the matter. If I intervene in her life beyond that, it wouldn’t be good for her. I also intend to keep up my relations with Gyeong-ae, even though I doubt it’ll last very long.” With such haughty words, he dismissed his friend’s concern.

“But is there any guarantee that things will go the way you expect? If you have a child, could the situation be handled so simply? You should marry her.”

“Who? Gyeong-ae?”

“How can it work with Gyeong-ae? Given your way of life and our family’s reputation. ”

“So that’s how it is. You’re telling me to give up Gyeong-ae and marry Pil-sun for your sake. This is a wild guess, but could it be that you want me to marry Pil-sun so you can forget your attraction to her? But, really, why are you bringing this up? I’ll manage somehow. As for you, just do what you’re supposed to. I don’t want to have anything to do with it!” Byeong-hwa was unexpectedly inflexible.

“What do you mean, ‘do what I’m supposed to’?”

“I’m talking about Pil-sun. It’s not that I think you should ask her to live with you. But she’s not interested in me. With me, she would suffer all her life. But don’t worry about it — she’ll go where she is destined to go. As for Gyeong-ae, what’s so wrong about her living with me? Anyway, whatever happens, there’s no need for me to rack my brain over it. Things will straighten themselves out one way or another.” With that, Byeong-hwa stood up.

“What will you do if one of them makes a demand?”

“Who, Pil-sun? She wouldn’t do that, and even if she did, I’d flatly refuse. Pil-sun is not the kind of person who’d become a comrade, and becoming a comrade will not make her happy, as you once said. Whoever she marries, her husband will have to be affluent enough to take on her parents as well.”

Deok-gi knew Byeong-hwa was right, and he feared for Pil-sun’s future. It is probably useless for me to meddle in her affairs, thought Deok-gi. Still, he would ask Pil-sun what she thought and try again to convince Byeong-hwa to come around to his idea.

Impatient, Deok-gi went out to the outer quarters to call Pil-sun. He disregarded his mother’s gripe that he was exposing himself to the cold just when he was on the verge of getting better.

Pil-sun answered the phone herself, and Deok-gi was glad to hear her voice. She sounded well enough, but her voice didn’t convey a hint of a smile as it had in the past. He suspected that she was trying to suppress her feelings, just as he was.

She apologized for not coming to see him, and said she had been busy. When Deok-gi asked her if she’d visit the next day, she reluctantly answered that she would. After hanging up, Deok-gi stood by the telephone, his mind a blank. He was ashamed of himself for having been so happy to hear her voice. He didn’t recognize himself.

Until this moment, he’d had nothing to be ashamed of. But hadn’t a false note crept into his attitude? Would he really bless a marriage between Byeong-hwa and Pil-sun from the bottom of his heart? Did he feel the same degree of sincerity in his concern for Byeong-hwa’s well-being as he did for Pil-sun’s future? If Pil-sun and Byeong-hwa were happily engaged, how would that make him feel? Could he bury his broken heart and live out the rest of his life?

No one realizes it, but I’m a hypocrite.

If Pil-sun became someone’s wife, Deok-gi would distance himself rather than remain involved with her and her family. It was painful but sobering to reflect on his intentions and on what Byeong-hwa called his “attraction” to her. His effort to free himself from his temptations was selfish — it was not for Pil-sun’s sake. He was an egoist.

Deok-gi was quick to criticize and reflect, and the more objective and unsparing he was in his self-criticism, the clearer Pil-sun’s image was etched into his heart. The torment was unbearable.

Won-sam arrived by bicycle less than thirty minutes later. The telltale signs of a servant were gradually fading; nowadays, he didn’t go about town on foot, and he sported an overcoat and a winter hat pressed down to his ears.

As he recounted it, Won-sam had heard the rumor from one of his friends who hung around the streets of Hwagae-dong, who had overheard it in a neighborhood bar. Picking up the gist of it, he had asked Won-sam to fill in the details. Won-sam knew nothing except that one of the drinkers was a young man in a Western suit.

As much as Deok-gi racked his brain, he couldn’t think of any Western-suited young man among those who frequented his house or the Hwagae-dong house. His current buddies were all Koreans studying in Kyoto, and those living in Seoul were friends from his secondary school days or from the church, and not likely to go to a cheap bar. And other acquaintances of his would not talk about Deok-gi’s household affairs.

“It sounds serious, like someone’s trying to blackmail you.” Secretary Ji, who was sitting next to Deok-gi, clucked his tongue.

“You’re right. It must have come from someone who knows the inner workings of our household. It’s like thieves talking about a robbery they committed because they just can’t keep quiet about what they did. If this continues, I won’t remain idle.” Deok-gi sounded determined.

“It would be one thing if the thief merely pretended that he was innocent by yelling, ‘Thief!’ But it’s quite another if he then goes behind your back and tries to steal from you again.”

“That’s exactly what they’re trying to do.”

“Did you give something to the doctors?”

“I sent them gifts. Aren’t we expected to? I gave some pocket money to our family doctors, and I was generous with the Japanese doctor at the hospital since he worked so hard. I also had to take into consideration that he holds a doctorate.”

“How much?”

“I was going to send gifts, but his assistant said cash would probably be better, so I sent three hundred won, thinking a hundred or two would be rather small.”

“Three hundred!”

“It seems like a lot to us, but it is less than a month’s salary for them.” It was rather extravagant that he had sent four hundred won to the hospital doctors — a hundred for the Korean assistant and three hundred for the Japanese doctor — while he had sent a small fraction of that to the other doctors.

Even Secretary Ji, who had known the Jo family for many years, found it suspicious. Was three hundred won a reward for keeping quiet about something? Had Deok-gi covered up for the conspirators, though he was sickened by them, in order to protect his family name? Had he been driven into a corner because Sang-hun had masterminded some evil act?

The following day, when Deok-gi’s family was in the middle of a late breakfast, Pil-sun hesitantly approached the veranda. She heard the maid mutter in the kitchen, “Did she come this early to beg for breakfast?” Pil-sun’s cheeks burned. The Suwon woman had engaged this maid, and she seemed antagonistic to Pil-sun.

A long time passed before Deok-gi’s wife looked out. She didn’t seem overjoyed at the sight of their visitor. As Pil-sun stepped up to the veranda and approached the main room, a voice like that of Deok-gi’s mother wafted out of the other room. “Why did she come again? As if she didn’t stay long enough the other day. ”